Renting Series
by Lilith1631
Summary: Harry Potter doesn’t need a job, he’s got enough money and he likes spending it on something very expensive.
1. Chapter 1

**SUMMARY:** Harry Potter doesn't need a job, he's got enough money and he likes spending it on something very expensive.

**  
Draco felt the clammy hand slip down the length of his stomach and tug at the waist of his trousers. Slapping the hand away, Draco fell to his knees and began to undo the intricate lace-up of the robes in front of him

"No, I want to fuck -" Draco didn't want to hear what he wanted frankly, grabbing the bulge through the material and gave a twist. "ARGH! Watch it"

"If you think I am going to let you fuck me in this alley, you must be about as thick as your dick," stated Draco as a matter-of-factly.

"Well then, let's go back to your pla -"

"I have another appointment - either a handjob now, or nothing - your choice."

"How much?"

"Eleven Galleons." Joe, a regular, tall and wide not only in the trouser department, made a horrible face.

"Seriously? Eleven, for a handjob? That's more than my kid's wand!"

"You're asking for one during Me-Time. I'm off duty at the moment, which is more than can be said for you - it's going to cost more," stated Draco, smirking.

Joe snorted something that sounded vaguely like 'figures' and stepped back from the blonde kneeling on the filthy floor. "Alright then, so I'll make an appointment?"

"Yes. Always make an appointment - otherwise, the price goes up. I fuck on my time only." Draco stood up, brushing away the dirt from his knees and scooping up the M&S carrier bag that he had dropped when he was suddenly abducted into the alley ten minutes ago.

Joe sorted out the lacing on the front of his Auror robes to look presentable and watched as the blonde haired rentboy waltzed with aristocratic grace, down the road with packets of crisps rustling around in that stupid muggle white bag.

**

Draco hated the key to his apartment - he didn't even know why it was called a key. It was a little plastic bit of parchment with a black stripe on one side and when he put it into the little metal contraption attached to his door handle, a light which was supposed to flash green to allow him inside. Instead, today it wanted to flash red.

"Bastard door, open!" Draco jammed the 'key' into the feed, but the red light kept flashing at him. "Oh for fuck sake!" Draco looked around the corridor to make sure that his filthy muggle neighbours weren't peeking at him, and pulled out his wand from his back pocket. He pointed it at the door, thinking that he could outsmart the technological crap locking him out of his home; he yelled "_Alohomora_!"…the light flashed red again. "Damn."

Sighing, Draco rammed his wand back into his rear pocket. Placing his groceries on the floor by the doorframe, he walked down the corridor to the next door. Ellen, a small skinny woman with lank red hair, opened the door to his knocking. "Hi Draco. Locked out again?"

"Yep. Damn key."

"Let's have a look then." They walked back to his apartment and she looked at the abused door. She made a chuckling sound under her breath and pulled the card out of the lock, flipping it so the magnetic-strip face could be read by the electronics. Draco watched as she placed the key back into the lock and it flashed green. He was sure the damn door fancied Ellen; it would always open for her.

Giving him a knowing smile, Ellen strolled off back to her own accommodation without saying a word. He saluted her behind her back and picked up his groceries, stepping into his apartment, remembering to grab the stupid key as he went along.

**

As Draco began unpacking the multitude of paprika flavoured chips into the cupboard above the polished-never-used sink, he glanced at the clock. **8.26**. _Oh shit_, he'd been battling with the door longer than he thought he had. Quickly stuffing the last packet onto the shelf and slamming the door closed, Draco rushed into his bedroom. He didn't need to, but felt it a necessity to check the date-diary lying on his bedside table.

As predicted, **8.30** was booked with a crudely drawn stripy tie next to the time. Only one person requested he wore his Slytherin tie, and looking around his bedroom, Draco began to panic. _Where the hell was it?!_

"Shit." Checking the bathroom, the living room, in his closet, under the cat, and behind the TV, Draco still couldn't find it. "Shit, bugger, wank, where the fuck did I put it?!" With his hand paused over the fridge handle in case it was with the cheese, he thought back to what he was doing when he last had it. _AH HA!_ Running back into his bedroom, he dropped to the floor and looked under his bed. There it was, near the headboard. Sliding further under on his stomach, Draco made a grab for it as the ringing of his doorbell echoed through the apartment. "Oh double shit!"

Snatching it from the floor and then wiggling out from under the bed, Draco stood up and frantically tried to pull his shirt off. The buttons were tricky to undo while his fingers were fumbling as he walked to the front door.

Finally, he just pulled it over his head, letting the black material drop to the ground. Not minding his mused hair, he pulled the already-knotted tie around his neck and tugged his jeans a little lower on his hips. The doorbell rang again.

"Alright, don't get your wand in a knot!" Draco exclaimed, pulling off his socks and lobbing them into the cat-basket, then opened the door. "Evening Potter."

**

Stressed out from Hermione's tyrannical ranting about how he should "_look after his expenses better_", he rang the doorbell again. What was taking so long? A muffled shout about his wand and the door opened.

"Evening Potter."

God damn, thought Harry, running his eyes over a familiar sight; **His** lovely rentboy, leaning against the door, waiting for **HIS** command, dressed up how **HE** wanted it.

"Hmm...I love that tie on you." stated Harry, stepping inside and heading to the living room sofa. Draco just smirked to himself, thanking the lord that he had managed to get ready in a record 4 minutes and closed the door.

Potter was slouched on his sofa like a complete slob, acting as if he owned the place, pulling off his own jumper to reveal a crinkled polyester brown lumberjack shirt. The checkers on it made Draco want to vomit, but he smirked anyway as he made his way over to the guest.

The shirt wouldn't be much of a problem soon, thought Draco, eyeing up the yellow lines with dislike. "So what will it be for this evening Potter?" Draco stood between Harry's gaping knees.

"I just want to talk and hold hands," said Harry, straight-faced. Draco raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Really?"

"Of course not," smiled Harry, reaching out and snatching the end of the green and silver fabric brushing **HIS** rentboy's belly. With a quick yank, Draco dropped to his knees obligingly.

Harry sighed as fingers began to work at his zipper and small wet kisses were smattered on his abdomen. He let his had drop back and stare at the white ceiling while his fingers played with the end of the tie still in his grip.

"Hard day?" asked Draco. Harry yanked the tie a little, hoping to shut the git up. To no avail. "I don't see why you are always so stressed out – nothing to do but wait until your appointments roll round. Lift your hips." Harry lifted his hips, trying to blend together the words being drawled at him. "All you do is spend money - how is that stressful? Unless you're buying for something for someone and don't know what to get them - not just buying someone."

"Yes, I buy someone, you. So shut you and do what you're paid to do," snapped Harry, closing his eyes and letting the ceiling slip from view.

"Let go of the tie so I can reach then." Harry frowned but let go of the material reluctantly. His reward was two hands settling themselves onto his hips and a warm tongue licking its way up his inner thigh.

**

Draco bristled at Potter's command but understood in all fairness that he didn't charge sixty galleons an hour to sit and talk. He went to swift work on licking along the other man's thigh from the inside of his knee upwards. Potter had sensitive thighs, and Draco always found more entertainment in listening to the moans he got from these thighs than from giving a blowjob. A few swirling patterns had Potter melting into his sofa - so much for not doing his job - and then when he thought the stupid gryffindork was nice and cosy, he struck. Sinking his teeth into the tender flesh, clenching his jaw too tightly for most of his customers who liked him leaving marks, had Potter screaming to the neighbours. "ARGHNA!!! FUCK!!" Draco smirked around his mouthful of flesh, nibbling along the tender skin and watching as Potter's half-mast became a fully erection under the pain. Masochistic bastard.

Deciding that the red skin between his teeth was tormented enough, he started moving slightly higher, licking the tip of the leaking cock, earning yet another squeal, then a slap to the back of his head. "You're not paid for that," said a voice above him. Draco moved away, turning his attention back to the battered flesh of the thigh.

**

What a good little rentboy. His little slut knew all the places that Harry liked to be touched. The way Draco's fingers were digging around his hips into the meaty side of his buttocks, and how he bit almost too painfully along his thighs, how the boy's thumbs were drawing little patterns on his hipbones...so well trained.

"Alright...." gasped Harry after a few minutes of having the inside of his legs gnawed on to hell. Draco sat back on his heels, head tilted like a puppy, waiting for the next command.

"Hop on," Harry said, indicating to his lap. Draco stood up and pulled his wand out of his back pocket, smirking evilly and pointing it at Harry's penis.

Harry always hated the look Draco got in his eye when his wand was pointed at his extremities, it was evil and calculated and that smirk was not reassuring.

With a quick swish and complicated wiggle of Draco's wrist, Harry gasped loudly at the sensation. Another flick of the wand and they were both butt-naked except for the tie. Draco pocketed his wand and climbed into his client's lap. "Protection always comes first," reminded Draco, already positioning himself over Harry's slightly tingling penis. Harry hated that damn protection spell, it sent funny jolts up his urethra when it was being cast.

A firm hand around the base of his cock draw Harry's attention away from the odd tingle that had now settled in his balls. Watching Draco hover briefly over him before sinking down on the length of his cock was almost as good as the feeling of slipping into the hot, tight arse that brought Harry back time and time again to the insufferable git. So hot. So tight. _So Slytherin, _thought Harry, looking at the slatted grey eyes.

Grabbing a fistful of Slytherin tie, his knuckles grazing against Draco's chest, he pulled his rentboy's face down to his. "No kissing." Harry growled in frustration and instead attached his mouth to Malfoy's neck, sucking in part of the tie as well as skin - it would leave an odd shaped mark hopefully, like tie-dye.

Roughly holding his slut's hips in place, Harry thrust his hips up into the hot clenching hole at his disposable while Draco went back to working over an area of his neck that already had a hickie from his last visit. Love bite upon hickie upon love bite. The nails raking down his chest was sending Harry into a frenzy and after a few more minutes of primal groping and thrusting, Harry spat out the tie and threw his head back and with a hoarse scream, came. Feeling very, very satisfied, and no longer hearing Hermione's voice echoing the words 'a month costs more than Ron makes in a year!' through his mind, Harry flopped back into the sofa's cushions. Draco on the other hand was not happy.

"Damn you Potter! Selfish git!" snapped Draco, extracting himself from Potter's lap, feeling the now-wet cock slip from between his legs. He stood up, his own unattended erection throbbing painfully. "Its all about you and your needs," snapped Draco, striding off into his bedroom with his own cock bobbing along as he walked.

Climbing onto his own bed, ignoring the cat on one of the pillows, Draco propped himself against the headboard and began to wank himself off. It was terribly unsatisfactory.

As he tugged at the neglected cock between his own legs, a shadow fell across his bed sheets. Looking up, he saw Potter standing in the doorway.

"It costs you extra if you want to watch me do this," stated Draco, moving his hand faster.

Potter shrugged and stumbled over to the mattress, pushing the cat off the bed with one hand, "Move it, Mind." He settled in the cat's place, leaning on his side, head propped up with a bent elbow, watching the show.

"This is invasion of privacy," stated Draco, sneering at Harry.

Harry just smiled and reached out, joining his hand with Draco's. Draco didn't want to admit that the sudden sound of mewing was not from the cat, and bucked his hips, cum shooting all over the bedcovers and both their hands.

"Damn. Now I have to wash the sheets again."

"Hmm." said Potter. They sat in silence, Potter amusing himself by drawing patterns in the cum stain on the bed. Draco looked at the clock on his table next to his date-diary. **9.10**.

"What days do you want me to book you in for next week?" asked Draco.

Harry picked up the diary and handed it to Draco, watching as he flicked through to the appropriate page. "The usual," replied Harry, lazily drawing his finger through the puddle on the sheets. Draco rolled his eyes and draw a cartoon tie into next week's dates.

Monday _**8.30pm - 10.00pm**__,_

Tuesday _**8.30pm - 10.00pm**__,_

Wednesday _**8.30pm - 10.00pm**__, _

Friday _**8.30pm**__**-**__**10.00pm**_

Saturday _**9.00am - 8.30pm**__**-**__**empty Scarhead's wallet**__**-**__**££££££!!!!!**_

Closing the diary, Draco tossed it on the floor next to the curled up grey kitten and turned to his client, "So, you have fifty minutes left, what do you want to do Potter?"

"Cuddle?"

TBC

**A/N:** 'Mind' the cat! This is the first fic I ever posted, but for some reason I've never put it on FF. So here it is, for your perusal…I can't believe I used to write like this!


	2. Mastercard

**SUMMARY:** Hermione thinks its slavery, Ron pretends he doesn't know about it, Draco thinks it's a competition and Harry thinks it's worth the cost.

**

Harry stood in the mirror, trying to tame part of his fringe into place. It was as wild as ever and he didn't know why most people insisted that it was somehow sexy because Harry thought it looked like a nest for raccoons. Grabbing his wand, Harry tried to spell the unruly hair flat. A blue light shimmered over the strands, wafting them as if in a breeze and then…nothing.

"Hmm…definitely an improvement," said Hermione. Harry looked at her coming into the kitchen of Grimmauld Place.

"It makes me look more sophisticated, doesn't it?" He agreed cheekily, turning his head from side to side and trying again to tame that bit of fringe back over his scar.

"I don't see why you make such an effort - he will like you whatever you look like," she said. Her unvoiced _'because you pay him to'_ was loud and clear. He ignored her.

"Maybe I should wear my blue shirt today…" mused Harry, turning his attention to his clothes. Clothes were important, if he wore something that was _'a crime against drag queens everywhere'_ then he wouldn't gain admittance. Ignoring the exasperated expression on his best friend's face, he jogged up the stairs to change his shirt.

Harry threw off his navy blue polo and replaced it with a simplistic, but what he considered to be ultimately stylish because he had seen _him_ wear it, white oxford shirt. Feeling that this would do, Harry checked the money in his wallet and left.

As he made his way downstairs, he poked his head into Ron and Hermione's room, seeing a sprawled lump of covers on the bed with a ginger mop poking out the top. "I'm going now Ron, see you tonight?"

The covers moved and a blurry Ron sat up, rubbing his face free of spittle. "We booked the reservations at Murleys," reminded Ron, "You will be there, won't you?"

"What time did you reserve for?"

"Nine."

"Then yeah, I will be there. I will be back at half eight," assured Harry. Ron sighed and shook his head.

"Alright then. See you later. Don't spend too much money - you're paying for the desert tonight, and I want a gateau. Chocolate one," insisted Ron, grinning.

"Okay," agreed Harry. "Bye."

Downstairs Hermione was waiting for him with her arms crossed. "There are a million good reasons why you shouldn't do this."

"And you seem to like to tell me a new one every time I step out of the house. What will it be today? God doesn't agree? Voldemort would have laughed if he could see me now? What, Hermione, what this time?" snapped Harry.

Hermione didn't look impressed with his outburst. She merely held out his coat and said plainly, "It's like slavery. As a SPEW member, you should be ashamed." Harry groaned, taking his coat and fleeing before she bribed another donation out of him.

**

Finally getting to the top floor, panting and leaning over the stair rail to catch his breath, Harry wondered why such an expensive apartment building didn't have a working lift. After three minutes dying, Harry straightened up and walked down to the first door with number '23' stamped in gold letters. Well, the 2 was gold and the 3 was silver because '_both numbers couldn't possibly be experiencing the same financial profit at the same time'_. Straightening his shirt, Harry reached one hand out and rang the doorbell. He could hear it echoing inside, and then heard a stream of muffled cursing from inside the complex. He rang the doorbell a couple more times, just to anger the inhabitant and listen to the truly creative vocabulary sounding through the wood.

A moment later the door swung open and there stood, in blue jeans so far down his hips that he was showing not only a snail trail but the top of the rest of his hair, a buttoned up grey shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow and looking too small in the length because of the way it had ridden up his stomach, was Draco Malfoy. "Are you coming in?"

"Where's your tie?"

"In the wash. In or out?" asked Draco. A pale eyebrow rose questioningly, holding out a hand. Harry smirked the smirk of the man opposite and stepped over the threshold, grabbing the offered limb.

**

"I need a shower." Stated Draco from his position against the front door. He then glanced at Harry; "And so do you - scank. Seriously, did you purposely douse yourself in sweat before you came here?"

"The lift wasn't working! It's your fault for living on the top floor," complained Harry. He stretched out on the wood floor, leaving little streak marks of perspiration.

"It's has nice view," defended Draco. Harry watched him get to his feet and plod off to the bedroom's en suite, his gorgeous bottom bouncing out of his view from the floor. The sound of water and steam began to billow through the bedroom door.

"HURRY UP POTTER! I _refuse_ to do the naked pretzel with you when you smell like a racoon has nested in your hair!"

Harry smiled and stood up, walking nude through the apartment. In the en suite, steam was pouring out of the glass cubical where the door had been left slightly ajar. Still smiling, Harry stepped inside, pressing himself up against the warm naked body inside.

"Took your time." Draco continued rinsing his hair off and Harry just pressed against him, watching the shampoo suds run over down the toned flesh.

"I want a -"

"You're not getting anything until you wash." Stated Draco, turning them until Harry was trapped under the hot spray. When he blinked through the mist, he saw Draco holding out a bottle of shower gel to him. Harry smirked.

"Don't smile like that, this is for washing. Not for lubrication. Wash."

"I'll wash once you suck me."

"I'll suck you once you wash."

Harry rolled his eyes but complied, squeezing out a handful of vanilla scented shower gel and began cleaning himself up. Draco merely watched with a smirk that made Harry feel very self-conscious. As soon as the soap was swirling down the plughole, Draco's knees cracked loudly against the porcelain floor. "I'm clean. Get to it."

"You could ease up on my hair," suggested Draco. One hand ran up the length of Harry's cock, pulling the foreskin over the head and down again; Harry tightened his grip on the blonde strands in spite.

_My poor follicles, _sighed Draco, straightening his back to reach properly as Potter was slightly taller than he was. Hooking one hand around Harry's right leg and digging his fingernails into the back of Harry's inner thigh, hoping to leave little bloody crescents in the smooth skin, Draco leaned forward and ran his tongue along the jutting erection. Draco would admit he liked to tease. As far as he was concerned, Potter was just another client. But whenever he had to give the specky git a blowjob, it brought back his competitive nature from Hogwarts. He had to beat Harry Potter, Golden Boy, Gryffindork. Tease him mercilessly until he yelled out in surrender.

Even more unfortunate for Harry than him being an enormous tease, was that by now Draco was extremely familiar with what Potter liked. So the way his tongue was protruding from his mouth to lash and flicker over the angry red head, before taking it between his lips to suck on ever so lightly then pulling away, was making the other man very twitchy. "Draco…"

A few more minutes of senseless teasing, Draco felt the thigh under his nails tense and a predictable rocking of hips begin. He let his teeth 'accidentally' graze the flesh in his mouth and was almost knocked off balance when he was suddenly forced to take more. Hs gag reflex fully suppressed since he'd started this job meant that he didn't choke to death as his throat was violated.

Water pelted off Harry's chest and landed on Draco's cheeks, making Harry appreciate the aesthetic illusion of his slut crying. It felt dirty and Harry already knew that the price for real tears was quite steep, so he contented himself with rolling his hips into the soft strong mouth and fixating on the water droplets pooling down under the pale chin.

Draco allowed his face to be battered, tonguing at the heavy blue vein and not worrying about the way his teeth continued to scrape against sensitive flesh. It certainly didn't seem to be bothering his client who was bucking about like a fish on dry land. A keening noise alerted Draco and he pulled away a little so he could catch the hot spurts of cum. After a moment or two, Harry stepped away and put one hand to the edge of Draco's mouth, feeling. "Not a drop spilled. Such a good whore. Swallow."

Draco swallowed the salty solution, feeling it slid down his raw throat and almost settle badly in his stomach. He was hauled up against Potter's chest, his knees creaking a little. "Kiss me," demanded Harry, "I want to taste myself on you."

_Liar, you just want to smooch._ "Hmm…" hummed Draco sensuously, leaning forward, bringing his hands up and pressing his thumbs over to Harry's lips so they could not open. He licked a strip of those quivering lips between his thumbs and pulled away. "I'm hungry," smirked Draco. He turned tail and left the shower. Harry blinked, and licked his lips. Salty.

**

"Another go?" asked Draco, coming back into the living room, carrying a stack of toast on a plate. He dropped on the sofa next to Harry and began to eat leisurely.

"Another go?" repeated Harry, his eyes wide in horror, "How can you be ready to go again!?"

"Two reasons," stated Draco. He took a bite of toast and took his time chewing it, swallowing it and licking his fingers clean of butter before continuing, "I have only come once today. And I have sex for a living, so of course, I have stamina of a hippogriff." Draco proclaimed this and went back to his breakfast.

"As if. I bet you can only keep it up because you take potions," laughed Harry. Draco's toast dropped back on his plate, his whole body frozen. Harry stopped laughing and studied the statue beside him.

"Did you just _insinuate _that I use SEX POTIONS!!!" squealed Draco with horror. Harry went to speak but Draco held up his hand to cut him off. He stood up, putting his toast on the coffee table. "I have never been so insulted in all my life. Even when I was called a ferret!" He stomped off to his bedroom, a loud lock signalling his displeasure. Harry's lips merely twitched a bit and he leant forward, picking up the abandoned breakfast and tucked in.

"What if I said I think you dye your hair?!" yelled Harry. A squawk sounded through the bedroom door. "I think you even dye below the belt because that cannot be natural!"

"That's it, out of my house!" screamed Draco, storming with such drama only accomplished by someone who perfected it in the cradle. "You think you are EVER getting another appointment, you have another thing coming! OUT!" Harry finished off the toast, licking his lips and leaned back into the sofa, the empty plate balanced on his stomach.

"Oh shut up. Just charge me for it. Now, come here. Feeling more energetic after that toast."

"Stealing my breakfast. I should charge you for that too."

"Whatever. On your knees."

**

"Do you ever get tired of this job?" asked Harry, pulling one of the cushions into his lap for some propriety. Draco, splayed in all his naked glory on the carpet between the sofa and coffee table, laughed.

"What a stupid question. That's not even worth my time answering. So, taking me to lunch?"

"Erm…okay…"

"Good, because I want a coffee."

"You have a coffee machine."

"Nothing beats coffee-coffee," stated Draco like it was a universal fact.

**

The old café that could not really compete with the Starbucks two streets over was quaint and quiet with plenty of seating…Harry had wanted to go in there.

Draco promptly dragged them around to Coffee Corporation, where people where squeezing through the door to get into a long queue. The queue apparently didn't apply to Draco though. He grabbed Harry's hand as they entered and proceeded to weave in and out of the line, managing to get them up to the counter.

"Hey, you pushed!" Draco turned his eyes on the woman and gave her a wide fake smile, big puppy-dog eyes and took her hand. The poor woman looked dazed.

"So sorry. I just need to pass a message to a friend who works here, I promise not to hold you up. Forgive me terribly?"

"O-of course." Draco gave her another knicker-shifting smile and dropped her limb, smirking at Harry and stepping up to the counter.

"Mildred!" cried Draco loudly, grabbing the attention of an elderly woman with iron grey curly hair dressed in a green apron.

"Draco!" she purred. Harry shivered.

"I am going to die, Mil! Die. I have not drunk coffee since _yesterday_! You might as well cremate me in the espresso machine," he whined, fluttering his eyelashes dramatically. Mildred, obviously pushing sixty, leaned across the counter and pinched his cheeks, then running her hands through the blonde hair affectionately. Harry wanted to chop her old spindly fingers off.

"Aww, bless you, almost starved to death too - have you had breakfast?"

"No. It was stolen."

"My poor thing. I will get you a muffin. What coffee do you want this morning?" she asked, grabbing a cardboard cup and pen.

"Venti caramel mocha with three extra shots of espresso with a cookie crumbled into it. And two of those little wooden stick things. Please. Potter, what are you getting?"

"Erm…a coffee."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Black or milky?"

"Black," said Harry. Draco nodded to Mildred who grabbed another cup and scribbled down 'Americano'. She passed the graffitied cups to a younger employee, the spotty barista began filling them up with rich brown liquids. Mildred was bagging a muffin and then demanding an obscene amount of money for what was bought, but Harry handed over the money all the same.

With a quick wink to Mildred, and the woman who was now being served, they went and found a small table among the crowd. "Seriously, did you have to buy the most expensive drink here?"

"I'll have you know my muffin was free," said Draco, pulling it out of the bag with wide excited eyes that belonged on a five year old.

"Hmm…You never…with Mildred…?"

"Good lord, no! You think she can afford it working here?!" That wasn't quite the reason Harry was looking for, and he scrunched his nose up.

**

"Ready to go?"

"I need to pee," said Harry. He abandoned his coffee cup and headed to the gents.

"Such a charmer," sighed Draco dreamily, waltzing after him. Harry was already at a urinal, a steady stream hitting the white porcelain while Draco continued to chatter, "Do you think Muggles can't do maths? I mean, all their money is in tens. It must be like adding ones and then putting the noughts back on after you've got the total. Imagine having to dumb down your whole currency system just because your race is retarded by default - if they had magic -"

Harry had finished during this ramble and had gone over to wash his hands. When he looked at Draco again, he was overcome with desire. Draco was admiring his own reflection in the mirror, preening at it like a parrot in a cage, looking ethereal and looking perfect.

Teeth clashed together while Harry twisted blonde hair between his fingers tightly, delving his tongue between soft lips to taste the caramel and coffee that this beautiful man had drunk before. _This is heaven_, thought Harry, wrapping one arm around Draco's waist and flushing their bodies together.

Harry was so caught up in the moment that when he finally came up for air with a silly smile of peace on his flushed face, he didn't notice the fist flying towards him.

**

"You may be rich Potter, but even you can't afford that," said Draco, globbing the healing balm on Harry's eye. They had Apparated back to Draco's apartment.

"How much is a kiss then?" asked Harry, moving to grab the other man. Draco allowed himself to be pulled closer, but only to continue applying the cream to the purple patch.

"There is no point even asking for the price, it's too much."

"I will give you whatever you want. A thousand galleons!"

"Nope."

"Ten thousand?"

"Nope."

"A hundred thousand!"

"Nope. Lift your chin up."

"A trillion!"

"Don't be silly."

"Oh, come on. I will give you all the money I own."

"And then I would ask for one Knut more, just because then I know you couldn't afford it. Leave off Potter, I'm not going to kiss you."

"Why not?!" snapped Harry, frustrated and leaning up to try and capture those lips again but Draco kept evading.

"Because rentboys don't do kisses. We prefer blowjobs - want to give me one?" asked Draco, waggling his eyebrows. Harry groaned and gave up trying to steal a kiss. Falling back against the pillows and he allowed his eye to be tended to by soft, agile fingers.

**

Harry jumped an absolute mile when the doorbell rang loudly through the apartment. He frowned and looked at Draco. "If I'm here…"

Draco rolled his eyes and stood up, going to the front door. Harry followed, curious. Standing on the other side of the door was a man in his early forties; he was tall and stocky but with a full head of hair and a chiselled jaw. He would probably be the kind of guy who attracted all the mums in the playground. He screamed family man, so did the ring on his left hand. Harry wanted to know why Draco suddenly draped himself against the doorframe, looking like a piece of chocolate. "Hi Bob."

"Bob?" repeated the man. He then spotted Harry and a look of understanding came over his face. "Oh right. Erm, yes…so I'm here for an appointment."

"Right, come in. Sit down; I need to get my book." Draco let Family Man in, who had the audacity to walk straight past Harry and sit on the beige sofa. Draco walked off to the bedroom while Harry stared at 'Bob' for a moment, and then went after Draco.

"Who is he?!" snapped Harry, grabbing Draco by the wrist which was holding the date-diary. "And why is he here now?! This is my time - I don't pay for you to be with other people!"

"He's only here to book an appointment, calm down. He's just a client."

Harry pushed the blonde against the wall, hissing into his calm face, "You are MINE! Tell him to fuck off. Now! Who is he anyway? What's his real name? He's married - I'll tell his wife, see how -"

"Will you shut up!" snapped Draco, pressing himself away from the wall and into Harry's chest. "I am only yours for as long as you pay for it. I have other clients, get over it! And you will not go blabbing to anyone about 'Bob' because that's confidential! I don't tell the newspapers that Harry Potter, a washed-up sex maniac comes to me five times a week! So get the fuck out of my way." Draco pushed Harry aside and went into the living room.

Harry followed Draco back into the living room and leaned against the open counter of kitchen, glaring at the two on the sofa arranging a time. Once Bob left, Draco turned his attention back to Harry. "That was really rude."

"I don't care. I don't like him," stated Harry. Draco shrugged and walked over to Harry, plastering himself to the Gryffindor's chest. Harry was still pissed. Really pissed. He threw Draco away harshly where his back cracked loudly against the countertop.

"What's your fucking problem, Potter?" asked Draco, rubbing his spine.

"What do you think the fucking problem is? I saw you slutting it up to that man, it's sickening. Acting like a filthy -"

"Whore?" suggested Draco, raising an eyebrow. "I think somewhere along the way you forget what I am. That money doesn't disappear out of your Gringotts account for no reason. You're denser than I thought if you think you are my only client."

"What if I buy Thursday and Sunday too?" suggested Harry rashly, "That way you wouldn't have to degrade yourself any longer."

"Oh right, because being _your_ sex toy isn't degrading either - I should be honoured that the great Harry Potter wants to impale me with his huge -"

"That's not what I meant! I just meant that wouldn't it be better to have me as like…I don't know, a sugar daddy than having to touch those _revolting_ old men - that guy was practically eighty!" exclaimed Harry, waving his arms about, "Besides…I like the idea of seeing you all week, we could add two more days to what we normally do, right?"

"Sure…except the only reasons you don't come the other two days is because you're off pretending to be a retired hero! Got to keep up that public image of sexy boy wonder bachelor."

"Fuck the media. Come home with me."

"…did you just ask me to move in with you?"

"Erm, yes."

"No. Definitely not! Look, let's get something straight," ordered Draco, wagging a finger up in front of Harry's nose. "One. I am a rentboy. You rent me, you do not own me! Two, I am not ashamed of who I am - I like to fuck and I like getting money for fucking. Simple. Now…want to have more sex?"

**

"Say you're mine!"

"Fuck you!"

**

It was 8.20 and Harry's time was closing to an end. They lay together in the bedroom listening to Mind, the grey kitten that struck Harry as the perfect pet for the Slytherin prince, scratching his nails along the wall paper under the windowsill.

"I don't want to leave you." Said Harry, pushing the hair back from those oh-so-grey eyes.

"Going to splurge on another hour then?" asked Draco, leaning across for his date-diary. Harry stopped him and made him lie back down so he could continue playing with that blonde hair.

"No, I have to go to dinner." There was a long pause as Harry contemplated what it would be like to have a normal relationship with the man next to him. "Be my date?"

"You want to take your rentboy to dinner?" asked Draco. He then barked out a laugh, "And who would we be double dating with?"

"Ron and Hermione."

"Oh, well then I'll starve." Stated Draco, stretching out on the sheets like an angel going to spread its wings and lift off. Harry huffed and stood up, looking for his trousers.

"Fine. Whatever. How much do I owe you for today?"

"Let me get my calculator, I'll make you a receipt. Shall I book you in for next week while I'm at it?"

**

Harry finished writing his letter to Remus and dropped the quill on scroll, massaging his hand when Hermione yelled up the stairs, "ARE YOU READY! THE TABLE IS FOR NINE! HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE FOR YOU TO CHANGE?!"

Harry pulled out his wand and with a quick flick of the wrist, had his sweaty crinkled clothes changed for a smart black suit, minus tie with the top button of the silky blue shirt gaping open. Standing up, his eye caught the lengthily receipt sitting next to his letter.

Without much thought, he grabbed the quill and lent down, adding his own handwriting to the bottom of the receipt.

**DM Escort service - Saturday 11****th**** May 2006 (9.00 am - 8.30 pm)**

G=galleons, S = Sickles, K = Knuts

**Charged amounts:**

_**60G**__ - sex on arrival _

_**30G**__ - Penalty: Injury sustained while fucking against front door, damn knob._

_**20G**__ - Blowjob in shower _

_**50G**__ - penalty: almost drowned!_

_**44G**__ - Penalty: two insults - 20 galleons for emotional abuse to my hair (naturally blonde, thank you very much), 24 galleons, for implying I use Viagra_

_**6S**__ - Penalty: stealing my toast_

_**600G**__ - penalty: kissing me - that'll teach you!_

_**4S**__ - Ointment for eye_

_**166G**__ - sex marathon (3hrs - 2 fucks, 1 rim, 1 bj)_

**162G:14S:14K**_ - Service fee for wasting my bloody weekend_

_**Subtotal: 1132 Galleons, 14 Sickles, 20 Knuts.**_

_**Refunded amounts:**_

_**22G **__- for not wearing my tie_

_**14S **__- flirting with OAP for coffee and muffins_

_**30G **__- conducting business transaction with other client in your presence (jealous git)_

_**56G: 10S: 18K (5%)**__ - regular client discount_

_**Total: 1023 Galleons, 7 Sickles, 2 Knuts**_

_Fucking my crush – priceless!_


	3. Addicted

**Chapter summary:** Harry has a problem. He is rapidly running out of money - he has to get a job to pay for his addiction

**

Draco's head was thrown back, his mouth gasping out little puffy pleads of 'faster', 'harder', and the ever greedy 'again'. Harry's forearms were hooks under Draco's shoulders, their sweaty chests sliding slickly together and their hips thrusting up to meet in a frantic rhythm. Draco's warm lips pressed against the shell of Harry's ear and he almost didn't hear the words whispered into it because he was moaning too loudly himself. "I love you."

"W-what did you say?" gasped Harry, moving his even hips faster, almost to completion.

Draco opened his mouth again, but his voice was higher, more effeminate and sharp, "Get up Harry. Breakfast!"

Harry woke up with a jolt, bolting upright in bed, pressing his hand to his crotch but couldn't stop himself from finishing coming. Once the pressure in his balls was gone, and the evidence of his dream all over the blankets and himself, he flopped back down against the pillows. "HARRY, WAKE UP!!! BREAKFAST, DAMN IT!"

Harry felt himself flush with embarrassment, Hermione's voice had obviously encroached on his dream. Scrambling out of the sticky mess that was his bed, Harry grabbed his wand, pointing it at himself and the bed sheets. "_Abstergo!"_ Clean again, he threw on some boxers and headed downstairs to the smell of bacon.

**

Harry sat at the kitchen table of 12 Grimmauld place, pouring over his expenses. He had to do this once every month and it drove him mad. He always put it off till the last moment but soon the goblins would be knocking on the door, so he forced himself to do this chore. The wooden table was littered with papers, most with either a goblin or dragon emblem on their corners. His outgoings seemed to be getting bigger and as he sat there with Hermione's calculator, Harry came to a horrible dawning realization.

In deep denial, Harry frantically began punching numbers such as _**7,981.34.2 **_or _**4,590.99**_back into the calculator, but the more numbers he added, and the more times he pressed the __ button, the bigger the total was becoming. The same total came back this time as well. How he had managed to rack up **19,924 galleons, 11 sickles and 6 knuts** this month alone he had no idea!

Dropping the calculator in disgust, Harry thumped his head against the table in despair, and then just let it rest there.

This was how Ron and Hermione found him seven minutes later. "You okay, mate?" asked Ron, pulling out a chair and sitting down beside him. Harry sat up straight, a receipt stuck to his forehead. He frowned at it and ripped it away.

"No, I am not okay. I'm broke."

"I wonder why." Murmured Hermione. Harry shot her a glare but she merely smiled at him.

"Broke?" squealed Ron in astonishment, "But…it can't be that much!" Ron picked up a random receipt and his eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "Erm…"

Harry could tell by the length of the paper in his friends hand that that was quite a cheap one. Picking up the one that had been stuck to his forehead, he handed it over to Ron. Ron's gasp was enough to explain how dire the situation had become. "How could you spend this much in one day?!...what does BJ stand for?" Hermione sniggered from by the toaster.

"I only have a couple of grand left in my accounts - I can't afford this anymore."

"Good," nodded Hermione, buttering some toast, "I was wondering how long it would take for you to run out of money - this will help you. You can stop cold turkey."

"You make it sound like a heroin addiction!" said Harry.

"It is an addiction, Harry," she explained calmly.

"It is not!" defended Harry, thoroughly insulted.

"It is."

"NOT!"

"IS TO!"

"NOT!"

"IS TO!"

"N -"

"Shut up, both of you!" yelled Ron, standing up to block their view of each other. Hermione huffed and continued sorting out her lunch. "What are you going to do about it then?" asked Ron.

"Get a job," decided Harry.

"So you can continue funding your _addiction_?" asked Hermione around Ron.

"IT'S NOT AN ADDICTION!"

**

"I told you to watch your expenses," crowed Hermione knowingly, perched on the sideboard and watching Harry squint at the job section of The Daily Prophet and scribbling on a piece of parchment.

"At least a job will keep him occupied from…stuff," whispered Ron in her ear. Ron still didn't like naming the Dark Lord even though he was long dead, and he certainly didn't like naming what Harry went off to do every morning. Naming it would make it real.

Harry ignored the both of them and finished writing his CV, which was looking particularly sparse because 'Hero' didn't take up a lot of space, it was only four letters. He thought for a moment, then added 'of the wizarding world' to the end. There, done. _No. Not done_. He screwed it up and threw it in the bin. _Damn_. This was hard.

"I don't think I am qualified for any jobs…" sighed Harry, looking over advertisements such as _**Trained Auror wanted for personal protection scheme**_ and _**caretaker needed, good sweeping charms a plus**_.

"I could ask my dad if there are any jobs in his department," offered Ron, "You know about Muggles so…"

Harry smiled, "Oh thank you!"

**

"You're awfully quiet today. Aren't you going to insult my hair or something?"

Harry shook his head, he couldn't afford insults anymore.

**

His first week as a 'Muggle Relations Officer' was not too bad. His job consisted of explaining to Muggles why they had a table that barked or why their lawn mower kept changing the grass purple without mentioning magic. Thank goodness he could still remember enough of his Muggle education to spout some crap about the laws of physics that helped with his new Obliviating training, which was basically "_say the spell, tell them a different version of events_." He even had his own office, with a table and big leather chair, no window but plenty of hooks on the walls to hang pictures on.

He even had an assistant. Well, no, he shared an assistant with most of the department, but at least this was a far improvement from when Harry had seen Arthur Weasley in a little cramped shared office all those years ago. Sitting here now, with only a few sheets of paper work that basically asked _'What lie did you tell the Muggles after they were obliviated?'_, Harry decided he was bored.

Pulling out his wallet and rooting around for a business card, he picked up the strangely orange glowing phone on his desk and dialled out a number. The phone kept ringing and ringing until it switched over to answer machine. "Draco ain't here to collect your call because he's got better things to do. If you want an appointment, tell me when you'd like it and your phone number in case I'm doing someone more important. Any other stuff you want to talk about, tell it to the - _BEEP!_"

Harry had never had to call this number before and was chuckling quietly at the greeting-message.

"Erm, hi Draco. It's Harry…I would like to -" began Harry before being interrupted by a lot of clanking down the receiver as someone picked up the other end of the line.

"Hi, sorry about not answering straight away. You don't know who calls, do you? What's up?" asked Draco, breathing down the phone as if he'd been running.

"Oh. Well I just wanted to change all my appointment times. I know I usually have half eight till ten but..." Harry flushed a little, glad that it couldn't be seen. "I've got a job, so I've got to be in at that time."

"A job?" came the astonished reply, "Why?"

"To pass the time."

"I thought that is what I was for," Draco sniggered. Harry rolled his eyes, relaxing back into the chair.

"So can I have an earlier appointment?"

"Earlier!?"

"Yes. I don't start until half eight, so can I get my appointments at six instead?"

"SIX?!"

"Yes," said Harry, tiredly, "Six."

"Fine, so long as you don't mind me catching a few Zs while we fuck."

Harry laughed. "Okay…so Draco…do you do delivery?"

**

"Are you awake?"

"…Hmm? Course. Please, continue."

…

…

"Draco? Draco, wake up!"

**

Harry rushed up the stairs, two at a time because the stupid elevator still wasn't working. Smoothing out his clothes and hair, trying to look somewhat presentable, he knocked at number 23. The door opened only slightly but Harry could clearly see the towel around Draco's hips through the small opening. _Nice. No, distracting_.

"Draco, can I come in?" he asked, already pushing the door open.

"This really isn't a good time." pleaded Draco, trying to evict Harry.

"Who is it? Can I get half price if I share -" came a third voice, a man looking distinctly familiar came trotting naked into the living room. Harry remembered who he was immediately; the family man who had invaded one of his Saturdays.

"You remember James, right?" asked Draco vaguely. Family man grabbed a cushion off the sofa and used it for decency, turning heel and going back to the bedroom with a come hither look to Draco.

"I remember his name was Bob," snarled Harry.

"It's James now. His surname is Bobble. Can you imagine! Bob Bobble. Poor bloke, forced to change it," lied Draco lazily. "What are you doing here? You don't have an appointment."

"Erm, no…I was here to - can we talk outside?" asked Harry, frowning towards the bedroom as he suspected James to be listening. Draco sighed, looking down at the towel on his hips but agreed. When they were outside and the front door closed, giving them the limited privacy of the corridor, Harry spoke.

"I need you to come to a dinner with me."

"I already told you no when you invited me to dine with the weasel and his minx. No!" insisted Draco, leaning against his front door and winking towards his ginger-neighbour who was bustling past them to go down the stairs.

Harry winced, but continued valiantly. He wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing. "It's more formal than that…I, erm, lipamahbos-" he blurted, rushing the words and made them sound like he'd sneezed.

"I'm sorry; I didn't hear that last bit through the snot. Do you need to wipe your nose on my towel?"

"I lied to my boss," repeated Harry more slowly. Draco's face was blank.

"So? What does that have to do with me?"

Harry shifted and Draco narrowed his eyes at the clearly guilty man in front of him. "My boss saw you coming into my office a couple of times…and…when he asked who you were, I didn't want to say that you were my…"

"Rentboy." Supplied Draco.

"Yeah, that. So I said you were my boyfriend," finished Harry. Draco shrugged and continued to look bored. Most of his customers tended to do this if they were caught in the act. Harry continued to look a bit jittery though and Draco had a bad feeling when Harry continued to explain his situation. "I've been invited to this dinner with people from work and they wanted me to…bring my boyfriend along." _Oh shit_, thought Draco, his stomach giving an unpleasant lurch.

"You told them I was going to be busy. Or that I tended to wear gay outfits and you didn't want to be seen with me dressed up as a sailor or something, right? Tell me you lied some more!"

"Umm…" Harry panicked. He flattened his shirt nervously and studied his shoelaces.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" yelped Draco, horrified. When Harry didn't suddenly yell 'April fools' Draco got mad. "The answer is no. I am not an escort!"

"Then why do all your little receipts say DM _Escort _Service?"

"It's a figure of speech - just a nice way of saying I work from home. I am not going to some frilly party just so you can climb the social ladder and -"

"How much?" asked Harry. He knew this one was going to cost big time.

Draco paused in his rant, and considered if he could milk this for all it's worth. "How long is it for?"

"Three or four hours."

"And what am I required to do?"

"Just act like a boyfriend, you know, caring and stuff," shrugged Harry. Draco wrinkled his nose up at that.

"And when is it?"

"…Tomorrow."

"Oh, short notice!"

"Well I was worried about asking you and I left it to the last minute."

Even Draco had to admit that Potter looked adorable when he was awkward. That flush on his face was lickable…wait, no! Shaking his head and plastering on a scowl, Draco whined, "Argh, but it's a Thursday tomorrow - that's Me-Time!"

"I said I'd pay! Don't be such a cheap arse."

"Cheap arse?" repeated Draco, sneering, "I'm charging you triple, just for that remark."

Harry groaned, hanging his head in despair, "Will you bloody come or not?!"

After a long moment of silence, Draco shrugged, "Okay. Come by half an hour early before this dinner thing is suppose to be. We can dress me up and play dollies." With that, Draco grabbed his towel in both hands and flipped the edges back to flash Harry before going back inside his apartment, cackling with glee. _Triple pay, nicely played_, thought Draco.

**

When Draco answered the door the next evening in a sailor suit, white trousers once again hanging so loose they threatened indecent exposure and a tight top with neck sash and a little Popeye hat perched on top of his head, Harry was traumatised.

"Will this do?" asked Draco, smirking.

"Certainly no!" cried Harry, trying to tear his eyes away from the outfit. Morbid curiosity made him ask, "Why do you even have that?"

"Some of the other clients like to play dress-up. I've even got a school girl outfit to go with my Slytherin tie." Harry's eyes crossed at that as a very naughty thought entered his mind.

"Really?"

"Oh yes. Want me to go change into that now? I've got a spanking-ruler too," smiled Draco innocently.

Harry choked, but managed to gag out, "No, a suit will do."

"Spoil sport."

**

Other than having to force Draco out of a skirt, they ended up at the restaurant in time, both wearing suits. It was a busy Indian restaurant and they were directed through levitating tables of steaming curries to a large group nearer to the back. As they approached, Draco gasped and grabbed Harry's sleeve tugging on it furiously. "Potter, problem!"

"What?" hissed Harry tensely, smiling at his boss who had stood from his chair to beckon them over. The man sitting next to his boss, Marius, was a quiet colleague who liked obliviating too much, and he had a funny look on his face.

"Draco?" asked Marius. Harry's stomach dropped. _Oh no._

"Marius, so nice to see you again," said Draco, smiling pleasantly as he draped an arm around Harry's waist.

"You know each other?" asked Arthur, sitting on the other side of Marius.

"Oh, yes. We met when I was doing an apprenticeship in clothes design and dress-making," said Draco, sending covert wink at Marius who had flushed the same colour as Harry. _Like seeing my Draco in a skirt eh?! Wait till we have to go Obliviate an old lady together. You'll be in her dress faster than you can say -_

"Aren't you going to introduce us, Harry?" asked Rhea, his assistant who was making eyes at Draco. _Grr, away!_

"Oh. This is Draco Malfoy, my _boyfriend_. Draco, this is Rhea Water-Myer, my assistant."

Dinner went well despite the mango chutney somehow landing in Marius's lap. Draco had acted like the perfect gentleman, and played his part of loving boyfriend very well. Harry found it very distracting when Draco whispered lovingly into his ears "…and then Marius hiked my skirt up and spank my naughty little bum until it was red raw…", and the way he kept touching Harry, touching his arm, holding hand on the table, wiping the corner of his mouth clean and then licking his thumb. All very distracting. Harry almost didn't hear that he was going to be put in an advanced Obliviating training program so he could do his job more efficiently.

Draco excused himself to the bathroom near the end of dessert and when Marius did the same not shortly afterwards, Harry excused himself too. "I'll just go check on Draco. He's not been very well lately."

As he approached the bathroom, he saw Marius leaving it, rushing back to the table and avoiding Harry's stare. Bursting into the bathroom, he saw Draco washing his hands. "What were you and Marius talking about?"

"The cost of fishnet stockings," replied Draco, setting off the motion sensors on the hand dryer.

Harry stepped up behind Draco, wrapping his arms around his lithe torso and nibbling the soft taunt skin of his neck. "I love you," said Harry softly, holding Draco even tighter to him.

"Role play is an extra twenty galleons."

Harry sighed but nodded in defeat. "Okay. Can we stop by my place on the way back? I need to grab some more money."

"Okay. I'll wait by the exit. Grab my coat for me; I don't like the way Rhea is looking at me."

**

Draco watched dispassionately as Potter pegged it up the stairs towards what was probably a bedroom more badly decorated than the hallway he was standing in. Honestly, faded yellow and green stripes did not go together!

Tonight had not gone too badly, other than he had been bored stiff throughout dinner, but making Harry squirm with tales of his other clients had made it livelier. He had gotten another appointment, which meant more money and though Potter had declared love, they were going back to his place for a nice expensive fuck. Not a bad night at all.

"Malfoy."

Draco looked up at his name and came face to face with Hermione. Over her shoulder he could see Ron Weasley, watching from a doorway. They were both much older and taller than when Draco last saw them six or so years ago.

"Oh. Nice to see you again, Granger. It is Granger still, isn't it?" he asked, gritting his teeth to be polite.

"Hermione, quick. He'll be back soon!" hissed Ron, angling his head to the stairs. This peaked Draco's interest but he kept what he knew to be an annoyingly bored expression on his face as Hermione rounded on him.

"Listen, being with you is making Harry sick. He's obsessed with you. Addicted," informed Hermione in that know-it-all voice that grated on Draco's nerves still. "We want whatever is best for him. So either go out with him like a normal, decent person would, or _fuck_ off! Otherwise we are going to do something drastic."

"Ooh, scary," mocked Draco. The death glares he got from both of them didn't bother him at all. However, the words '_I love you'_ were still echoing through his head. Maybe it was time…

"I can't stand to be around this god awful décor a moment longer. Tell him I've gone ahead," said Draco, Apparating with a loud crack. Hermione looked at Ron and sent him a weary smile.

***

"You've been blacklisted," was the first thing Draco said to him when Harry apparated into the apartment.

"Is this some sort of sexual practise I don't know about?" asked Harry, stepping forward and snatching at Draco's wrist playfully. Draco stepped back sharply, tripping over the sofa arm and ending up sprawled across all three seats.

Harry grinned widely and pounced. "No! wait - umph! Fuck you're heavy."

"So," laughed Harry, settling himself and pushing the blonde hair out of grey eyes, "How do you blacklist? Is it like missionary?"

"No, it's not a sexual position, it means - look, can you get from between my legs please?"

"I like it here." Harry explained in the same tone as saying 'the earth is flat', whereas Draco tended to say things like 'Weasley is a twat'. Draco wiggled and kicked his legs until his heel got purchase on the arm of the sofa and he flipped Harry off of him. A confused Harry looked at him from the floor.

"What's the matter?"

"Get out. You're no longer my client." Draco pulled at the tie around his neck. Stupid suits.

"What?! Why?" squawked Harry, scrambling to his feet.

"Because I said so. Please leave."

"Draco!" Cried Harry, grabbing his wrist again, seriously this time. Draco made the mistake of looking into Harry's face. He felt his resolve soften a little.

"I'm sorry. It's just the way it is. If you want I can recommend someone to you. I know lots of others who -" began Draco softly, trying to shake his arm free of the punishing vice-like grip.

"I don't want them. I want you," insisted Harry savagely, trying to pull Draco to him. After a moment of flailing arms and elbows, Draco was struggling against Harry's embrace.

"Yeah. Well, that's the problem, isn't it." Snapped Draco, feeling himself get angry again, "You don't want a rentboy, or to bend a Malfoy. You want me. Actually me…as like…a boyfriend. I saw the way you were looking at me today when I was acting all that lovey-dovey shit. It's not right." He punched Harry in the gut and stepped out of his reach while he was doubling over.

"Okay, maybe…" gasped Harry, clutching his stomach, "I won't deny it. But just because I told you I love you, it doesn't mean that you have to blacklist me or whatever, I am willing to pay still; I'll pay double! Please Draco, it's just a fantasy. I am sure other clients have fantasies…" Harry knew he was begging, it was pathetic, and he felt cheap. Maybe Draco felt like this a lot.

"You're blacklisted, that's final. Now kindly remove yourself from my apartment…And don't come back."

"Draco…" said Harry warmly, taking a step forward, grabbing Draco firmly again as if he would fly away.

"Don't touch me!" Draco tried to jerk away, Harry seemed a bit startled by his violent reaction but kept holding on.

"Draco -"

"You can't fuck me anymore, its rape!"

"R-rape?" repeated Harry, looking highly insulted.

"That's what being blacklisted is. You're not my client anymore, so touch me again and I scream rape, understand? I'm not consenting to anything with you again." Draco ripped his arm free and pointed to the door, "Get the hell out. Now."

Harry looked at the door, and then at Draco. There was no way in hell he was going to walk away and never come back. _Not a chance_, he grinned.

Draco saw Potter grin and took a worrying step back, grabbing his jacket from where it had been slung on the sofa and rooted around for his wand. He was too slow; he felt the wand tip at his temple when he turned to look back at Potter.

"OBLIVIATE!"

The flash of white light rushing towards Draco sent Mind, the cat, into a spitting fit. His fur raised and hissing loudly as if spooked by the way his master's eyes had glazed over. Grabbing Draco's face and staring into the dilated pupils, Harry said slowly, "We went out to dinner, you met Marius, and I got jealous and accosted you in the toilets. I told you I love you…and you told me you loved me back. Say it. Say 'I love you'."

"I…I love you," repeated Draco, staring blankly into nowhere.

Harry smiled.

_TBC_

**  
_**A/N: **_When the next chapter is up, please read the author's note. Thank you.


	4. No More Muffins

**IMPORTANT A/N: **There are some serious warnings for this chapter; however, they are also spoilers. If you want to read the warnings first, scroll to the bottom of the page.

**Summary:** Harry and Draco enjoy domestic bliss together

******

The coffee table creaked loudly under his weight and his legs ached from the wide angle they were being spread at. Harry had his ankles grasped in either hand, holding him open and exposed as he pounded him with unforgivable force. It wasn't the vulnerable position that was making Draco slightly anxious, it was the way they were in full view of his neighbours if they so wished to peek across from their balcony into his French windows.

"Oh god…Draco…" Harry dug his nails in deeper into the bony ankles, knowing that they shared his kink for a little bit of violence in their sex. Draco looked like a fallen angel, the way his hair haloed around his head with static and how he seemed to float on the translucent glass table.

Harry peered down to watch the length of his cock slide in and out of Draco's slick hole, the way his erection bobbed with the beat of his thrusts, a string of precum threatening to snap from where it was joined at the enraged crimson head and the pale hair's coming down from Draco's bellybutton. Feeling the pressure building up in his abdomen, Harry retracted his nails and encouraged Draco to hook his legs around his hips. The grip around his cock tightened at the shift of position and Harry wiggled his hands between their limbs to pull open the pale buttocks, allowing himself better access.

Draco's hips sockets were protesting loudly but he focused on clenching his muscles at the same time Potter dragged his dick out of his arse, clenching to create a nice tight sensation that had the other man moaning like a wounded hippogriff.

"So close…" sighed Harry, leaning down a bit to bring their faces closer together.

Draco, daring devil that he was, unfurled his hands from the edge of the table and brought them up around Harry's torso, attempting to leave scored nail-trails for days. Harry movements suddenly became frantic and Draco dug his nails in even deeper if only to keep from sliding off the glass. Staring determinedly into Draco's eyes, Harry's whole body shuddered as he gave those last few thrusts to completion, yelling out what numbly equated to Draco's name, then collapsed.

Draco was sure the table would break with both their weight and he hated to imagine what his bum looked like squashed from the other side of the glass top. Harry shifted on above him and said sensuously into his ear, "I love you."

Draco tensed a little, such words sent him into a hot dazed feeling, but he managed to murmur out his own devotions. "I love you too, Harry." Draco could feel the smile against his neck and chose to remain silent for the rest of that day.

**

"Harry!" whined Draco, kicking Harry's outstretched foot. "HARRY...Haaaaaarrreee!!"

Harry put his book down in his lap and looked at Draco for the first time in half an hour. He was standing there naked. "What is it?"

"I'm bored," pouted Draco, moving to Harry with a predatory smirk on his face.

"Well what do you do when you're normally bored?"

"I fuck."

"You nymphomaniac! We've only just done it!" said Harry, quickly standing up and trying to get out of Draco's pouncing range. Draco just kept stepping forward with a mad gleam in his eyes.

"I am -erm, was a rentboy! I was having sex every day all day - need sex. So stop inching away and take it like a man!" Draco jumped and Harry screamed like a girl, running to the other side of the living room.

"Away you frisky fiend!" yelled Harry, picking up the nearest thing to be used as a weapon. Mind didn't look happy being used as a tool of defense and decided to claw Harry instead of his advancing master. Dropping the cat in pain and watching it flee, Harry looked back up into grey eyes a couple of centimeters away.

"Do you like silk Harry?" grinned Draco, waggling his eyebrows and presenting a black silk sash from goodness knows where.

"I am sure I could…but in a little while? I don't think I can get it up right now, you exhausted me."

"Oh don't worry," smiled Draco, already captured Harry's wrists and winding the soft ties around them, "I am sure I can help you out there."

**

By the amount of banging and thudding coming from the down the doorway, Harry could summarize from his position on the bed that Draco was in a bad mood. "Draco?" he called, lifting his head up from the pillow at an uncomfortable angle.

"Ah, right where I left you," said Draco, storming into the room. He pointed accusingly at Harry's spread-eagle body. "This is your fault! Your entire fault."

"What is?"

"Mildred! She won't serve me!" cried Draco, he held up the coffee and little bagged muffin in his other hand, waving them about, "I actually had to pay for this myself!"

"Why didn't she serve you?" asked Harry.

"She had just got a big bonus, enough for a quick tongue session and she was upset when I told her I was retired. So now no coffee for me, and I blame you! Why can't you share?! Then I would have coffee!"

"Draco, you're rich and that coffee costs four pounds, the muffin about two pounds. What's the problem?"

Draco was either gasping because he was affronted or he couldn't think of a reason, but finally he said "It doesn't taste the same as free stuff! Dingbat."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Whatever. You've got your coffee, now do you mind untying me?"

Draco laughed. "Nope." And with that he stood up and walked out of the bedroom, sipping his suddenly better-tasting coffee.

"Draco! Come back here! Untie me! Draco...please?"

**

Draco hated this day out of all the other days of the year. Valentine 's Day. Pink hearts bred like bunnies and his clients always used to develop infantilism fetishes for the day, dressing him up in a fluffy nappy and wings.

Standing in Clintons now, looking for the perfect card to say 'I don't know why I love you because I think you are an annoying prat', Draco's only thought was at least shopping for cards didn't give him a rash. After asking an assistant, he was forced to settle on something a little more traditional. Now all he had to do was buy a present. _I'm in hell._

**

"I've never really celebrated a Valentine's Day before," said Draco, letting Harry test his new unbreakable, magically enforced, gold plated handcuffs. They bit into his wrists a little, but he ignored it. "So…my other present…is that I am going to throw away my diary."

Harry's mouth dropped open and his eyes flickered to the little black book sitting on the nightstand. Draco had been very adamant that he would not get rid of his date-diary even after he swore off his other clients. To him that little black book belonged there between the lamp and clutter of crap, and what would sit there if not that? It was like a comfort blanket that was there to contrast brightly against his new life with Harry.

"Are you sure?" asked Harry, hiding his glee badly. Draco nodded.

"Yes. I'm shite at present shopping and I know handcuffs don't scream romantic…but…I know how you feel about the diary…so…throw it away. Now, while I can't stop you," said Draco, clinking an imprisoned wrist against the barred headboard. Harry gave him the widest smile, leaping off the bed and snatching the diary up.

Draco watched him disappear from the room, already regretting this decision. A loud clunk signaled the book's demise at the hands of Harry, another small thud as the lid of the bin closed and Harry came trundling back in.

He climbed on the bed, straddling Draco and kissed him soundly. Kissing was almost as unnatural as the empty spot on the nightstand. Draco hadn't kissed anyone on the mouth properly for a good four or five years, and the way Harry's tongue invaded his mouth felt like violation. Harry liked kissing though and the name of the game is to please the cl - boyfriend.

"Enough with all this mushiness, it's time, Potter! I've let you tie me up, now it's your turn to keep your end of the bargain. The skirt is in the bottom drawer."

Harry groaned and looked to the chest of drawers behind the door, the bottom drawer threatening him with its abundance of toys, costumes and outfits.

**

"Nice legs."

"Shut. Up."

"Must say, my tie looks good on you too."

"Draco, what did I say? Shut. Up."

**

Draco was rudely woken the next morning by Harry kissing him slowly. "Hmm…what time is it?"

"Little after eight. I have got to go to work. Hermione and Ron want us to go around for dinner next week, okay?"

"Yeah. Whatever," shrugged Draco, snuggling against Harry's shoulder and planning to go back to sleep. A few kisses where peppered on his face and then Harry was leaving for work.

"See you later. I'll try to come home an hour earlier or something."

"Hmm. 'Kay. Have a nice day."

"Love you."

"Love you," repeated Draco, clutching his pillow back over his head and plunging his world into darkness. The door to the apartment banged shut and Draco lay there, attempting to get back to sleep. It didn't work. Fucking Potter had woken him and there was no way he was going to be able to go back into slumber-land again.

Groggily getting up, and heading to the en suit, Draco wondered what it was that Harry actually did for a living. He decided the fact unimportant in comparison to his discovery that he had run out of his favourite vanilla body wash. _Damn you, using my wash stuff. Might as well take away my…_ Draco couldn't think of something more heinous than using his expensive French body wash…he drew a blank, other than his date-diary, which was no more, there wasn't much.

Wait. Draco dashed from the bathroom, leaving the shower running and went to the kitchen at full speed. _Fucking luck!_ Thought Draco, glad Harry had left him to empty the bins today. He opened the lid and looked inside. Eww. Looking around, he spotted the washing up gloves in the sink. Perfect.

Draco often wondered why these gloves where always yellow, and now it made perfect sense. To match the tikka masala in the bin that he was rooting around in. After a couple of minutes of truly revolted digging, and Draco's strengthened resolve to recycle more, he pulled out his beloved little black diary. He would have kissed the cover in dramatic appreciation but the curry and questionable white powder on its leather was reframing him. Going back into the bedroom, he collected his wand and cast three cleansing charms, just in case.

The gloves, now being licked by Mind, were abandoned on the floor as Draco flipped through his diary. He hadn't touched it since Harry moved in. To feel its pages again was better than an orgasm. The best thing about this diary was it was magical, so if he forgot to write in an appointment after arranging it, the lovely mind-reading diary would do it for him. Sometimes Draco had to admire how truly lazy he was.

Looking at the last time he had written in the book, he saw that his regular appointments stopped after a Thursday block with the word 'dinner' written underneath 'Joe'. This must have been the day Harry and Draco admitted their love to one another…Draco must have gotten drunk that night because he never remembered the dinner or the declarations, but the way he had said 'I love you' the next morning was testament to their new relationship.

Still…the diary should have booked Harry in for every day of their relationship because it could not distinguish between clients and boyfriends. Draco frowned and flipped to the back of the book, curiously. The sound of water pounding against the porcelain floor of the shower came rushing back into his ears as he read the back page. Under the heading **Blacklisted** was a new name at the bottom.

**Harry Potter**. Draco blinked.

**

His first day in the advanced Obliviating program was as boring as he suspected it would be when he was told to bring writing equipment with him. Instead of writing notes on the theory of obliviation, he drew little cartoon dragons and DMs all over his parchment. Doodling was a much more preferable option that listening to things like '…is a barrier to the truth…' that created a wave of uncomfortable guilt in his stomach.

"…barriers can be broken if something triggers. Triggering the memory may cause the same unresponsiveness that occurs when Obliviate is first cast. Can anyone tell me why? Mister Potter?"

Harry jerked his head up at his name and looking at the impatient lecturing Obliviator. "Erm…" When Harry couldn't come up with an answer, the teacher just answered the question himself.

"When the memory is being recalled they go into a daydream like state…" _You're putting me into a 'daydream like state', you mouldy old sac, _mused Harry, returning lovingly to his crude artwork.

**

"Hi Joe. I'm back in business, wondered if you still wanted that house-call?...when will Madge and the kiddies be gone?"

**

"Draco! Stop fussing with your hair I'm sure you look okay. Let's go!" yelled Harry. He had been waiting by the front door.

"What do you mean 'okay'? I'll have you know I look devastatingly handsome," said Draco, coming down the hallway in his baggy flash-the-world-your-pubes jeans and a simple black shirt that brought out the contrast of his skin and hair.

"Can't you put boxers on?" asked Harry.

"I could, but then I'd miss out on Weasley attempting to divert his eyes," laughed Draco. He slung one arm around Harry's waist and pushed them out the door before Harry demanded him into the constriction of underwear.

Harry didn't notice the way Draco was scrutinizing him on the doorstep as they waited for someone to let them in. In fact, he hadn't noticed the odd, studious looks he was getting through most of the week, too caught up in the smiles and touches that were granted to him when he did look at Draco.

When the door opened, Draco plastered on a smile and looked up into the face of a taller, older Hermione Granger. She didn't look particularly pleased to see he had managed to come as invited, she wore the same type of smile he was wearing. Fake.

"So glad you could make it. Come on in, Ron's dishing up in the kitchen." Hermione spoke lovingly to Harry, then turned her eyes to Draco, running her eyes over him in disgust. When she noticed what his trousers did not cover, she blushed something terrible. Draco smirked.

They moved into the kitchen-cum-dining room and sat down at the table while Hermione went and fetched some wine for them. "This is nice," sighed Harry, looking around the kitchen to see if it had changed in his short absence.

"So Harry, any interesting cases at work?" asked Hermione, coming back with a red store-bought wine and four glasses. As Harry went on to explain about a Muggle and his frisky bed sheets, the only thing that Draco could think of was how boring this night was going to be.

**

"We've got an announcement," announced Hermione to Harry. She clutched Ron's hand tightly. "We're getting married."

Harry dropped his bread roll in his soup with surprise. "Really? Oh that's fantastic! God, you took your time, Ron! How did you propose?"

"Erm…I didn't," flushed Ron. He was turning red and sending a glare at Draco as if daring him to mock. Draco wasn't interested; he was still trying to pull out the little brown herbs out of his soup.

"I asked," said Hermione. "It is a leap year and I was tired of waiting. I still made him get on one knee when I asked him. The man has to be the one on his knees."

_Here, here! _Cried Draco into his soup.

"She kicked my shin until I was on my knee. I've still got the bruise!" complained Ron.

"Aww, poor Ronniekins!" cooed Harry. The conversation of the wedding continued for a good twenty minutes until it took an unpleasant turn towards Draco and Harry's relationship. The soup should have been cold by all rights but the heating charm kept the dubious concoction floating around in Draco's bowl.

"So, how are you two?" asked Hermione politely, Draco doubted Harry could hear the bitterness.

"Fantastic," responded Harry immediately, "Never been happier, have we?"

"Hmm. No, never happier," agreed Draco, nodding banefully at his soup.

"What made you decide to give up whoring?" asked Hermione.

"Hermione!" cried Harry, horrified at her callousness.

"No Harry, it's a decent question," said Ron, sneering at Draco. Finally looking up from his bowl, Draco just glared at the couple.

"I don't think it is any of your business frankly," said Draco coolly, his fingers itching for his wand.

"Oh but I wanted to know why you suddenly decided to finally go out with Harry like a normal, decent person," said Hermione.

_Either go out with him like a normal, decent person would, or fuck off_…

"What did you just say?" asked Draco hollowly. Hermione repeated herself and then started arguing with Harry who had jumped to his defense when Draco's whole face went pale.

_Either go out with him like a normal, decent person would, or fuck off_…

The three friends where arguing loudly at each other while Draco just sat there, eyes out of focus and dreadfully dizzy for a couple of minutes.

_Either go out with him like a normal, decent person would, or fuck off_…

_I love you…_

_He's obsessed with you. Addicted…_

_You don't want a rentboy, or to bend a Malfoy. You want me…_

_You can't fuck me anymore, its rape…_

_Obliviate! Obliviate! OBLIVIATE! _

"Just because that's how he started out, it doesn't mean he's a bad person -"

"It's not like he needs the money, Harry! He's not a victim of unfortunate circumstances or whatever romantic crap you've brained up!" snapped Hermione. None of them noticed Draco's sharpened glare and the way he was practically vibrating in his seat.

"He's only with you for your money, Harry. And he's already got most of it!" said Ron, shaking his head and muttering something like 'four years' under his breath.

"Look!" snapped Harry, throwing down his napkin out of his lap, "I love Draco. Isn't that enough? And he loves me so why don't you just -"

_And he loves me…_

_Say it. Say 'I love you'…_

"I love you…" echoed Draco, dully to his memory. Harry turned and smiled serenely at him then turned back to his friends.

"See, he loves me. He said it."

Draco had had enough. Standing up sharply, he grabbed his soup and upended it straight into Harry's lap who screamed in agony, wafting his hands uselessly to move the steam. Draco glanced at Weasley and Granger, both of them staring in shock. Picking up his glass of wine, he poured that onto a yelping Harry too.

"There, hope it helps!" And with that, Draco Apparated home.

**

Ring. Ring. Ring - "Hello? Oh, yes, come round at about twelve. Okay…okay, bye."

**

Draco had a plan. An evil plan and if he was a book character, he would have given that stereotypical evil laugh that all the masterminds did. _Mhaw ha ha...hmm, maybe not, I sound psychotic_.

When Harry arrived at the apartment forty minutes, a large stain on his shirt and beige trousers, he found Draco waiting for him wearing nothing but his Slytherin tie. Walking slowly over to his boyfriend and stopping very close so their skin almost touched, he looked up into Harry's stony face.

"I'm really sorry about that, I just went crazy with all the arguing. I didn't mean to take it out on you." Draco bit his lip and looked up through his lashes at Harry's softening face. "Let me make it up to you, please."

"O-okay."

Draco guided Harry to the bedroom were candles floating near the ceiling, letting off a flickered glow and the bed sheets appeared extra comfortable somehow and Harry was looking around in wonder. "I should let you apologize more often," said Harry in awe.

Draco grinned impishly and slowly began to strip him, taking off the soup-stained clothes off and flinging them away while he trailed hot kisses along Harry's collar bone and chest. Harry ran his hands through what he considered to be the prettiest hair ever and wallowed in the feeling of those agile fingers feeling the contours of his spine while his bellybutton got a tonguing of its life.

"Suck -" began Harry.

"No," said Draco, standing up straight again and coercing Harry to the bed, "Lie down. Please." Harry gave into the desperate expression on his boyfriend's face and laid down.

"Like this?"

Draco climbed onto the mattress with him and nudged his arms up over his head, and before Harry knew what was happening, a loud click echoed through their bedroom and his wrist felt a cold pressure. Looking up at one wrist in shock, he turned back to Draco. "What are you doing?"

"Wouldn't want you wriggling. I have plans for you, love." Draco roped the handcuff around two bars of the headboard and then clicked Harry other hand into the cuff. He leaned down and placed a brief kiss at the edge of Harry's lips, whispering, "Don't worry. This is all for you tonight."

Harry relaxed back into the mattress and watched Draco with keen eye. Draco moved back to frenching Harry's bellybutton, his hands going over his own body, preparing himself. He didn't want to draw the wait out because even though it would be fun to tease, he was extremely impatient.

"I'm sorry about Ron and Hermione," said Harry softly. Draco bit and sucked hard, leaving a red ring around the depression in Harry's stomach.

"It's okay, I don't like them and they don't have to like me." Draco was up to two fingers now, scissoring them quickly inside himself while he slid himself carefully down Harry's body until his head rested on one of his thighs.

"You do know I love you, right?" asked Harry, wishing to touch Draco's face in reassurance.

"Of course I know," nodded Draco. He licked Harry's inner thigh. "And I you."

Draco rolled the flesh between his blunt teeth, sucking and clenching his jaw to hear the pain filled gasps and groans as Harry squirmed about in his restraints. Adding a third finger, finding the stretch a little uncomfortable, Draco kept his concentration on Harry's cock. It had been half erect but now was filling with blood until it was thick and heavy. Once Draco deemed that Harry was in working order, he pulled his fingers from himself and hoisted himself to kneel over the prone figure.

Fumbling with his wand and a quick incantation left Harry's penis shiny and slick with lubrication. Draco reached for it and levered himself above it before sending a wink to Harry, then settled down into the cradle of Harry's hips.

Harry moaned his name loudly as the tight, hot grip clenched at his cock, and he bucked his hips up urgently, trying to get Draco to move in time with him.

Draco splayed his hands on Harry's chest to give himself balance and began to raise up and down, Harry's cock slipping out until only the head was breaching him, then sitting back down heavily till he felt Harry's balls under his buttocks.

Balls-deep in the tight arse, Harry could already feel himself building up to an orgasm, and in the recess of his mind that wasn't screaming 'oh yes!', he hoped Draco would forgive him for coming in such a short time.

Watching Harry's erratic breathing and feeling the way he fruitlessly tried to take control of the rhythm of their fucking, Draco decided it was time.

"Harry? Can I try something?" asked Draco, slowing down his pace. Harry groaned.

"Try w-what?" _Anything, just keep moving!_

"Something someone else once did this to me - it's wonderful Harry, makes orgasms like…a hundred times more intense! Please. Trust me, it's good."

"Okay." _Just fucking MOVE! Goddamnit!_

"Say you trust me, that you love me," pleaded Draco as he pulled his tie over his head.

"I trust you…love you. Loved you forever. I love you." Harry panted, trying with mad desperation to get Draco to pick up the pace. And suddenly he was.

Draco began riding Harry again with sweet efficiency, getting Harry writhing in his chains, hoping that it would provide enough distraction as he undid his tie and circled it lovingly around Harry's neck. "There. A proper Slytherin," admired Draco, tilting his head and looking at the green and silver stripes against tanned skin.

Crossing the tapered ends around Harry's throat, Draco rode the cock inside him more feverishly and then began to pull at the material in his clutches, using them for leverage as well.

Harry's eyes were wide and his mouth gaped open with surprise, and pain. "D-d-"

"Blacklisted Potter. This is what you get," said Draco sweetly, yanking the tie-ends again, "when you try to fuck me over." Yank. Tug, gag. Gasp. The handcuffs were clinking loudly as Harry tried to reach for his own neck.

As his lips were started to turn blue, Draco was feeling a malicious sort of glee. "It's considered the ultimate invasion when you Obliviate someone. Tisk, tisk Harry, taking my memories away all because you were feeling selfish."

Harry's heels kicked at the mattress and his breathing became labored and rattled around in his chest. His eyelids began to droop and Draco lent down, licking the side of his face to grab him back from unconsciousness. _Don't pass out on me_.

Harry eyes rolled around and then slid into focus, pain evident in his face as he looked at Draco.

"Love me now?" hissed Draco, pulling the ends of the tie even tighter. Harry mouthed something and Draco leaned closer, rubbing his cheek against Harry's.

"What did you say?"

"L-lo-Love y-y-" A last puff of air blew into Draco's ear as he felt the body underneath his convulse and finally still.

Draco sat up and studied Harry's body, then scrambled out of his lap quickly before he got infected or something! Stepping away from the bed, Draco observed the macabre scene with a sense of awe. It was horrible.

The doorbell rang and Draco's eyes darted to the digital clock that sat in prized place of his date-diary. **12:04**.

**

Draco answered the door, leaning against the threshold with a smile, "Hi Marius. Let me just go get my skirt and tie. Take a seat. I'll be right back."

_Fin_

**

**AUTHOR NOTE: **So now that you all hate me…hope you enjoyed the series!

Alternative titles for this part of the series suggested by my betas:

- Harry Is Transfigured Into a Table Lamp To Hide The Evidence That He Was Killed By Draco Under The Pretence Of Auto-Erotic Asphyxiation

- I'll Wash My Bloody Hands and We'll Have A New Life

- If Only Harry Had Burnt the Book

**Warnings: **Character death, breathplay, bondage, mentions infantilism, unintentional necrophilia, Language, graphic sex, implied cross-dressing…I think that's about it.


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